The Quidditch Match
by yellow duck
Summary: A short, fluffy one-shot. Harry's happy after his victorious quidditch match against Slytherin... but it's his "best friend," Hermione, who really makes his day... please read and review!


The Qudditch Match

by Gwenhwyfar/Yellow Duck

Disclaimer: I am just your average Jane, more or less. So that rules me out for creating the delightfully three-dimensional, complicated characters that make up the wizarding world. These brilliant creations, along with the ideas of Hogwarts, Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade, et cetera, sprang from the overflowing mind of Joanne Kathleen Rowling. Since the rights to the names of these characters and places were sold to Warner Bros., they belong to the WB. I do not take credit in any way, shape or form for the genius of Harry Potter and his fellow wizards (and a muggles, too!).

Gulping mouthfuls of frigid November air, Harry Potter dove towards the ground. The Slytherin seeker, Draco Malfoy, was hot his heels. Harry focused on his dive, gripping tightly to the handle of his Firebolt. From the volume of the insults Malfoy was yelling, Harry guessed he was gaining on him. But that did not matter. The ground was only meters away. He leaned forward, becoming one with the broom. The last time he had seen the move he was about to play properly executed had been three years ago, at the Quidditch World Cup. Then it had been made by Victor Krum, the brilliant seventeen year-old Bulgarian quidditch sensation.

As he neared the ground, Harry pulled out of the dive, soaring upwards. Malfoy was not so fast. He hit the dusty floor of the quidditch pitch with a dull thud. Malfoy gave a shrill cry of pain, and then he was out. _Success_, Harry thought happily. A perfect Wronski feint.

As Madam Pomfrey hurried out onto the pitch to help Malfoy, Harry darted into the sky, his eyes searching for the snitch. A bludger came blasting by, but Harry ducked, and it missed him, hitting a Slytherin catcher instead. Then he spotted it.

The tiny golden snitch was fluttering on the other side of the pitch, its delicate wings moving tantalizingly. Harry grinned and aimed his Firebolt in the direction of the snitch. It was a simple enough catch. Harry leaned over the edge of his broom, and grasped the snitch. Then he held it triumphantly above his head. A roar of applause issued from the crowd, and Harry flew slowly down, a blissful smile on his face.

Harry landed easily and dismounted. The rest of the Gryffindor team grounded with him, all looking equally thrilled at the victory. He exchanged a few polite words, before scanning the bleachers.

His eyes happened upon a tall, slim Ravenclaw. Luna Lovegood. She hurried to congratulate him, the peculiar lion hat she had devised in her fourth year atop her head.

"What a spectacular dive…" she said dreamily, not looking at him at all but rather off into space.

"Er… thanks, Luna." Harry edged slowly away from her, trying not to be rude. She might be a bit dotty but she didn't deserve to have her feelings hurt.

"Yes, that's right Harry. Run along… wouldn't want to be seen with me, would you?"

Harry felt a throb of guilt and sympathy. "No, no! It's not that, Luna. I just wanted to find Hermione and Ron."

"It's all right, you know. I don't mind so much, now that I'm used to it," Luna said calmly.

"No, it _isn't_. I won't just walk away on you!"

"Very kind of you. I don't mind though, I really don't. I'm going to look for Ronald now. Bye." Luna drifted off into the stands, leaving Harry alone and perplexed.

_That was odd. Poor Luna._

"HARRY! You were great!" The last thing Harry saw before he was engulfed in an enormous bear hug was a head of bushy hair.

"Thanks, Hermione," Harry said, hugging her back. He pressed his face into her brown curls, inhaling her scent. She smelled sweet and spicy at the same time.

"I was so worried, when you were diving, Harry," Hermione whispered. "I thought you were going to crash. And then when you pulled out of the dive… well, that was amazing. You should have seen the expression on Malfoy's face when he realized you were playing a trick on him. Of course, he was too late to pull out, but he noticed a split second before he hit the ground."

Harry laughed at the thought of Malfoy crashing into the ground, knowing he had been tricked. "It was a Wronski feint, you know," he said absently.

"Oh, yes… one of those wonky feints. Didn't Victor do one of those at the Quidditch World Cup in fourth year?"

"Yeah, I'm surprised you remembered." Harry could feel Hermione trembling in his grasp. He held her at arm's length, surveying her with a worried expression. "Hermione? What's wrong?"

"What do you mean? Nothing's wrong, I'm fine."

"Bullshit. You're shaking."

"No I'm not!"

"Yes, you are. I can see you. You're shaking uncontrollably."

"Oh, Harry! Promise me you'll never fall for that, like Malfoy did. I couldn't bear it if you got hurt."

Harry looked at her strangely. "He'll be all right, you know. Just like the Irish seeker was at the World Cup those years ago. Madame Pomfrey would have me better in no time, if I hit the ground like that."

"But I couldn't bear to see you hurt like that! Harry, it would kill me!" Hermione began top cry silently, staring up at him out of her big brown eyes.

Leaning in to wipe Hermione's tears away, Harry took her back into his arms. "It's all right, Hermione," he said softly. "Don't worry."

"Promise me, Harry! Promise you'll never fall for it."

Harry would have rolled his eyes, but the expression on Hermione's face was so earnest that he held up one hand and placed it on his heart. "I, Harry James Potter, do solemnly promise not to cause Hermione Jane Granger anguish by flying into the ground," he vowed seriously.

"Thanks, Harry," Hermione said, managing a smile. She turned her face up to his, and Harry realized for the first time how very close they were.

He could see very clearly her shining brown eyes, her long, sharp nose, and her full, pink lips. Harry wanted much to blink, or look away, but found he could not. He could not take his eyes off of her. His heart was beating madly against his chest, and he was sure Hermione could hear it too. He saw her close her eyes, and instinctively did the same.

Then he kissed her gently.

It seemed like an eternity that they stayed like that; their bodies pressed together, his lips against hers. Harry found his hands making their way up the sides of Hermione's sweater, to rest comfortably under her breasts. Her taste was intoxicatingly delicious, and he wanted never to let go of her.

"Harry, Hermione! Bloody hell… what are you two doing?" Ron Weasley's voice cut through the air, and Harry and Hermione jumped apart.

"We were just… oh, I don't know!" Hermione buried her face in her hands.

Harry didn't say anything. He could bear to. He simply stared at Ron, blushing furiously.

"Listen mate, I'm not mad, or anything. I'm just surprised," Ron said quickly.

"But you fancy Hermione," Harry muttered, looking at the floor.

Ron laughed. "I used to, yeah. But not anymore."

"Who is it?" Hermione queried.

"Wha—?"

"Who did you… switch your affections to?"

Now it was Ron's turn to blush. He coughed, his cough sounding very much like the words, "Luna Lovegood."

Harry gave a cry of delight. "So you're not mad at me, Ron?"

"Nah, I don't think so."

Hermione smiled. "Did you tell her, Ron? Did you tell Luna you like her?"

Ron puffed up his chest. "She's going to lunch with me next Hogsmeade weekend."

"Congratulations, mate!" Harry said happily.

"Maybe… we could make it a double date?" Hermione smiled shyly.

"Yeah…" Ron didn't look too pleased.

"Oh, Hermione! Let's give them their privacy. But will you go to lunch with me, anyhow?"

Hermione went scarlet. "I'd love to."


End file.
